


Heir of December

by ElizabethWilde



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Drama, F/M, Illnesses, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 05:17:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizabethWilde/pseuds/ElizabethWilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Albion’s lesser prince wants to show the world and his father that he is worthy. When Kurt turns to the court physician for an apprenticeship, everything changes, and neither of them will ever be the same. AU. Klaine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I’ve taken on a multi-part, long fic all by myself in quite some time. But do not fear. This time, I’ve got an outline. Really! Okay, I’ve already changed one major plot point since I wrote it, but I know my endgame. Barring changes along the way, this should be 17 chapters long. Expect twists and turns and angst and suffering because I like all of those things. And, no, you don’t need to know the Merlin verse at all to appreciate this story. It’s simply a large inspiration for what I’ve built here - plus just a plain fun series if you haven’t seen it. The title is taken from the Edie Brickell song “Air of December” and, obviously, altered to suit my purposes. Please R&R so I know what you’re liking and what you want more of :)

Kurt watched everything from his seat at the family table, close enough for propriety but far enough afield for him to feel ill at ease. As usual he sat at the outer bounds of the royal circle. He was accepted and acknowledged only to a point. No matter how many years passed, his mother’s banishment from court left a mark on the boy who had been only a toddler at the time. Kurt vacillated between hating the estrangement and reveling in it. It stripped him of honor and position and yet afforded him a certain sliver of freedom not always afforded those of noble blood. Who, after all, cared what he did so long as he stayed within the restraints of proper society?

Everything in the room sparkled from the circlet on his step brother’s head to the crystal stemware on the table. Everything shone because it was new and clean and hopeful. Kurt felt anything but either as he picked at the rich food on his plate. He was once again watching as the King gave everything to the son he truly wanted. As his gaze scanned those assembled for any sign of a friendly face, Kurt caught the queen’s eyes and held them, drowning for a moment in the gentle warmth. She smiled, and Kurt felt some of the ice melt from around his heart. Letting the pain get the better of him was a disservice to the man the day celebrated, to the new crown prince of Albion. Finn deserved the honor. Of course he did. 

Closing his eyes, Kurt took a deep breath and forced himself to smile. Every time his father’s attention showered down so easily on Finn it cut him deeper, but his brother didn’t deserve to suffer for that. He loved Finn too dearly to something so entirely out of their control stand between them. Kurt’s problems with his father were between the two of them. He loved Finn, and he loved his stepmother. They made him feel included and loved even when Kurt wondered whether his father had forgotten him entirely. Finn had shown his bravery, his courage and his honor. He assumed nothing and despite his birthright still fought as hard as any knight to prove himself worthy of the title the king now bestowed upon him. Finn was a good man who would someday learn to be an even better king.

When the King raised his hands and proclaimed, “Long live the Prince!” the room roared, and Kurt cheered along with them, raising his glass at the boisterous toast. He watched his stepbrother rise, smiling, to greet the nobles assembled to wish him well with the new responsibility. Finn looked dashing and entirely unsure of himself with all eyes on him. Kurt gave a slight shake of his head, sure that only Finn could manage to appear regal and bashful at the same time.

The formality drained quickly away after that as the wine flowed freely and the revelers began to mingle. Speeches gave way to chatting on the sidelines and servants pouring drinks. Kurt lost track of everything as he drained his third glass. The alcohol created a pleasant disconnect from everything and everyone. The red haze let him float free of the uncomfortable gathering and the absent attentions of those around him. He was so lost that he did not notice when the queen sank into the seat next to him. He gasped at the touch of her cool hand and then chuckled. “Forgive me, My Lady.”

Emma’s smile shone brightly at the first sign of amusement she had seen from Kurt the entire day. She gently stroked a lock of hair back from his forehead. “None is needed. There are certainly a hundred things in this room that might command your attention before I would,” the woman replied with a soft laugh. “And how is my oldest on this day?” Though Emma had not borne Kurt herself, she had raised him since his mother’s untimely death. The Queen viewed Kurt as her son as much as Finn and made that clear to anyone who chose to treat them otherwise. The one person Emma never seemed to convince of Kurt’s worth was the king. More than once he had heard her gentle voice raised in protest over some slight or oversight as she fought for both her sons to be treated equally. 

“Tired, but well enough. Proud,” Kurt added firmly as he looked over to Finn, who sat uneasily next to their father. “He is the right man for the position whatever the order of our birth. Someday he will make a fine king.”

The Queen squeezed his hand gently, and Kurt could see tears shining in her eyes. “I want to see you find your own way. You may not belong on a dais, but you belong at court more than most here. You are too clever to be forever searching and never finding.” It pained her to see her second son’s bright light wasted in the shadows when he held so much potential. He could be anything, and the world seemed insistent on making him nothing.

Kurt’s gaze softened. He had heard the words before and found them no less frustrating now given their obvious truth. “I do not know-”

“Of course not! Your life will not come and find you, Kurt,” the woman broke in. “You must seek destiny if you expect to find it in your life. We all have a place and a time, all of us.” Hearing a call for her presence from one of the guests, Emma sighed and leaned in to press her cheek to Kurt’s. She dared not risk her carefully-rouged lips with a kiss. “Think on it. Your father may not recognize the potential that lies in you, but it is there for anyone who looks to see.” 

Kurt watched her breeze away again. She was the perfect amalgam of all a royal could and should be: kind, beautiful, graceful. She was also right, as usual. Kurt made polite small talk with a duke who had perched himself nearby but his mind wandered to thoughts of what might truly hold his interest. He enjoyed music but not nearly enough to dedicate himself to it heart and soul. That pursuit required total passion and commitment, and even then the most he could hope for would be performances to the court itself as a curiosity. He loved fine clothing and fabrics, but the idea of spending his days bent over cuts of it and making tiny stitches made Kurt’s neck ache with phantom sympathy. He wanted to do something real. Something tangible. He wanted to help the kingdom somehow though he might never rule it.

The young man’s bright gaze flitted over the faces of those assembled. He considered the lords and ladies, the attendants standing in waiting, the members of his father’s household who volunteered or were obliged to attend. Finally Kurt found himself staring at a quiet figure who lingered at the back of the room. The man watched but seemed mostly disinterested in the proceedings. As usual, he wore a dark cloak that all but hid his features. The court physician was always required to attend such social functions, but even Kurt who had been treated by him more than once could hardly recall what he looked like. His voice was soft and gentle when treating a patient, but the aura of mystery surrounding the physician made him almost sinister.

Despite being dour and standoffish, he was skilled and intelligent, else the king would have already dismissed him for being so pointedly adverse to any social graces. He saved lives day in and day out. Kurt felt hope flaring inside him at the idea of doing something with such impact. Even as an apprentice, he would have the opportunity to help babies enter the world and cure illness. Kurt finally tore his gaze away and let a smile light his face. He knew precisely what he needed to do.


	2. Chapter 2

The sound of the door opening barely even registered as Blaine continued to pore over the book open on his work table. Patients came constantly, and he had work to do above and behind tending every scrape and hangnail. There had been no announcement of a royal presence, no knights thrusting their way into his space before the king and Blaine took that as proof enough that this person was one who could wait as long as he saw fit. Even when a throat was pointedly cleared from the vicinity of the door, he barely spared the moment it took to wave his hand dismissively.

“Are you this cold to everyone who visits you?” 

Annoyed at the insistence of his guest, Blaine finally looked up to find someone he recognized readily standing in the doorway. Even if he hadn’t tended to the young man on more than one occasion, only an idiot would fail to recognize one of the princes. Blaine continued to glare from beneath his hood despite the realization and spared the lithe young man only a second’s attention. “You hardly look ill.” If he was honest, the prince looked lovely as always. Despite seeming largely useless, Kurt certainly maintained a position as one of the more pleasant members of the court to watch.

“Thank you,” came the ready response, “but I haven’t come for treatment.”

Despite himself, Blaine looked up to take the prince’s measure again. He saw precisely the sort of haughty pride he’d expected, but there was a distinct thread of vulnerability in the prince’s expression that gave him pause. Curiosity got the better of the man, and he inquired, “Then what did bring you here, my lord?”

The young man hesitated and then drew himself up to full height as if to gain some additional strength from stature alone. “I would like to request an apprenticeship.” 

Blaine only barely kept himself from laughing. The very idea of a prince volunteering to dig through the dirt in search of herbs and tend to the sick alongside him was ludicrous. Obviously the prince had been persuaded to finally make some productive use of his time. “I see the king has decided it’s time for his oldest to-”

“His Majesty has nothing to do with this,” came the immediate reply. Sharp blue eyes narrowed slightly at the dig. “I wish to learn if you think you have the skill to teach me.” Seeming more agitated with each passing moment, the prince finally demanded, “And take that stupid hood off. It’s impossible to have a civil conversation when I can’t even see you.”

“I hadn’t realized this passed for civil in royal circles,” Blaine returned smoothly, though he did push the hood back as ordered. “Better, my lord?” 

He read the surprise etched on the prince’s face. It was the reason he kept himself hidden so much of the time. Lords and ladies trusted a court employee they could not see, but they hesitated to put their lives in the hands of someone who looked young enough to be one of their own children. Blaine had studied with his father since he was first able to walk, but for many of his patients, even that was not reassurance enough when they saw his youth. “Y-yes. Forgive me, I assumed-”

“That I would be your father’s age, not your own. Of course, my lord,” Blaine answered, though his tone had gone deadly cold once more. It was frustrating to be judged entirely based on his age. After all, he had healed the young man standing in front of him before, tended him in illness, and still Kurt looked at him as if he were an oddity. He looked back down to his book, effectively dismissing the conversation. “I assume that you no longer wish-”

“I will decide what I wish.” The prince stepped in closer. “I wish to be trained. I wish to learn. If you are not capable of teaching me, then perhaps you would be so kind as to tell me whose skill might be worthy of the task? I prefer to begin at once.”

Blaine blinked and looked up again to find the prince leaning over the table in front of him. Apparently he was a bit more determined than Blaine had assumed. “My skill is not at all in question. It is-”

“Then you will train me?” The corners of the prince’s lips were already turning upward, pleased at his impending victory.

Frustrated at having been backed into a corner, Blaine scowled and closed the book. “And why would I want to try and train a spoiled little royal who probably has no idea what hard work really is?” He thrilled silently at the rage that sparked in the young man’s eyes but didn’t let it show. 

“Because at least I have the desire to learn a useful skill. Because I want to know.” Kurt crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared down at the physician. “I may be a ‘spoiled little royal’, but at least I have manners!”

“That remains to be seen,” Blaine answered calmly, but he finally rose from the wooden bench and put the book away, filing on a shelf with a dozen others that looked almost identical. “Fine.” He plucked another volume from the shelf and handed it over to the prince as politely as possible. “Learn this.”

To his credit the prince hesitated for only a beat before venturing, “Which part of-”

“All of it. The whole book. It covers the basics of herb gathering, common types of plants found in this area, what their uses are. Without this, you won’t be of much use to me.” He held a hand up when Kurt opened his mouth again. “Tomorrow you will come with me to gather herbs. I expect you to have at least begun reading this. We’ll see if you can be a real apprentice, highness.”

Kurt’s eyes narrowed, but he took the book and held it to his chest. “I’ll be here first thing in the morning,” he announced before turning on his heel and walking resolutely from the room.

As soon as the young man left, Blaine finally let himself smile. The very idea of the king’s son coming to him for anything was laughable, and yet there had been something in Kurt’s eyes, something that told him it might not be a lark at all. Maybe they could help one another.

*******

“Alright, you’ve done well.” After three hours of roaming the forest during which Kurt had only misidentified a half dozen species, Blaine had to admit that he had done his homework. He watched as Kurt knelt in the mud without protest and carefully pried plant after plant from the ground. He had long fingers, lithe and well-suited to gently handling each precious herb. “I still don’t understand,” he murmured half to himself.

Kurt looked up sharply at the words. He reacted to praise with as much skepticism as he did to a reprimand, perhaps more. “Understand what?” After the abuse he had suffered the previous day in attempting to get a moment of Blaine’s time, he had been closed off and careful with his words despite his performance seeming otherwise unhindered. 

Cursing himself for having spoken, Blaine decided to go ahead and be honest. He tended toward disclosure in a rather blunt form with the few people he had ever been close to. If Kurt truly wanted to work with him, he would need a thick skin. “I don’t understand why you’ve chosen this for yourself. There’s really no need for you to work this way. You are the prince-”

“A prince,” Kurt corrected carefully, “and not the crown prince. My duty is to be here in case both my father and brother fall. I am at best a substitute and at worst a placeholder.” He gazed quietly at Blaine for a moment. “Is it so strange that I might want something of my own?”

“But this?” Blaine pressed. He could hear the echo of something else behind the young man’s words and knew that whatever it was, that was the real reason. He didn’t let himself stop to ponder why he cared so much to begin with or why it mattered so much to sharpen the mistrust in the prince’s gaze.

“You know, of course, that I am not truly the king’s son.” He caught a flicker of something on Blaine’s face and took it as acceptance. Kurt’s adoption into the royal family was common knowledge despite being rarely spoken of. “He claimed me as such since before my birth, but my father died in battle, leaving my mother alone and pregnant. My father - my birth father - was a knight. Very brave, they say, and a friend to the king. And so the king took my mother as his queen. He was guilty for taking my father to fight, guilty at her being left alone.” Kurt sank onto a nearby log and sighed. The ‘what ifs’ of his life sometimes weighed heavily on the young man’s shoulders. He knew that he owed the king a debt of gratitude for all the man had done for him and for being a father when he might have had no family at all otherwise. Still he wished sometimes that he could know what a life free of obligation to the royal lineage might be like. “After I was born... I don’t know... no one will say... she... something happened. My mother was ejected from the kingdom. She got sick not long after. She died. The King had me returned to court, insisted that I was to be recognized as his son, but... but his new wife was pregnant by then, and...” 

“And now your brother is the crown prince and you are left picking herbs with me.” The king had done his adopted son wrong, but Blaine understood why. It had more to do with circumstance and inclination than with birth. Everyone at court knew that Finn was brave and strong, always ready to ride or hunt and making his father constantly proud. Kurt, on the other hand, was petulant, flighty and, he had heard it whispered, utterly uninterested in the lovely young ladies his father had tried to foist on him through the years. They were all reasons that Finn made the perfect choice to rule and Kurt was continually pushed deeper into the shadows. “It hardly seems fair.”

“It isn’t, but life is never fair. It gives and takes without worry for you who are or what you may be capable of,” Kurt answered wistfully before standing and brushing his pants off. The shadow of doubt flickered and faded away in a mask of disinterest. “Now, you are supposed to be teaching me, not interrogating me. As you said when we met, I am a spoiled royal for all may have happened when I was younger. I... would like to remedy that as much as I may.”

Blaine nodded slowly and began to lead the way back to the castle. It seemed that he had been wrong about the boy, or at least only partly right, and he found himself growing more and more intrigued by finding what truly made the prince tick.

*******

“You have excellent penmanship.” Blaine couldn’t help but smile faintly as Kurt’s hand jerked, smearing the ink and earning him a dark scowl. He drifted away again to his own side of the table and set down a pile of herbs just waiting to be ground and bottled. “Better than mine.”

“Of course. Yours is chicken scratch,” Kurt answered as he blotted away the smear carefully. “I’m surprised that even you can read half the labels on these.” He gestured absently to the shelves of bottles and canisters all labeled in Blaine’s less-than-careful scrawl. “I should redo the lot.” 

Blaine found himself watching the flickering of the quill in Kurt’s hands. He carried it with an easy sort of grace, the feathers flickering through the air with each jerk and push until Kurt lifted it to reload the ink once more. A sudden pause in the motion drew Blaine’s gaze upward, and he caught the prince gazing straight back at him. 

After a long silence in which neither of them ventured anything more than a long, uncomfortable stare, Kurt finally rolled his eyes, “Was there something you needed?” 

The stalemate broken, the physician averted his gaze and gave a slight shake of his head. “Nothing. Thinking. I have work to do,” he assured, disappearing from the table with his herbs as if he’d intended that all alone. In truth Blaine simply didn’t want to explain the blush on his cheeks and the fact that he didn’t want anything at all except to keep watching.


	3. Chapter 3

Another foolish crush. Kurt was honestly furious with himself for letting it develop. As if it wasn’t bad enough spending half his youth traipsing after Finn like a lovesick puppy, Kurt now found himself gazing a moment too long at Blaine’s dark curls as he bent over a scroll or glancing up at precisely the wrong moment when his mentor stooped to gather an herb. It was maddening. 

Already his father looked at him with suspicion whenever he spoke too long with noblemen who visited. It wouldn’t do for anyone to get the wrong idea even if the wrong idea happened to be the right one. They had, William reminded him pointedly, a reputation to uphold as a family, a reputation for which Kurt was responsible as well. The last thing Kurt wanted was for anyone to assume his lessons with Blaine were merely an excuse to ogle the man. Though that happened to be a rather pleasant side benefit, Kurt wanted to learn and had thrown himself into the lessons with all the passion he possessed. 

His head snapped up at the sound of light laughter. No longer was the queen studying every perfect stitch of her embroidery. Instead he found her large green eyes fixed pointedly on his face. Kurt blushed at the realization that he had entirely lost the thread of their conversation some minutes before. “Forgive me, I... my mind drifted. What were you saying?”

“Actually, I said that you seem distracted.” The woman went back to her sewing, but the smile lingered on her lips. “Very. Does this distraction have a name, or have you simply been too long in those dusty books?”

“The books are very well kept, thank you,” Kurt returned. He knew the joke for what it was and took no offense. Emma alone seemed enthusiastic about his new pursuit. Finn offered honest support but was visibly confused by the idea that he wanted to work when it wasn’t required. “I suppose I... it’s nothing.”

As usual Emma read the truth beneath the words and set her work aside at once to focus in on her eldest son. “I am your mother. While there may be things that are... that are less easily discussed with your father given his position, you have never hidden the truth from me before. I ask that you refrain from doing so now.”

Kurt sighed and slumped back in his chair. It was true to a point. He rarely kept anything from the woman, his juvenile crush on Finn being the notable exception to that rule. “I may be a bit... a bit distracted by... by Blaine,” he finally confessed quietly.

“Ah,” Emma replied in a tone that said she’d known as much before he spoke a word. “And the young man? Does he share your... distraction?”

Rolling his eyes at the very idea, Kurt scoffed, “Does anyone? Even if he did, it... we both know that...” He hesitated and took a moment to gather his thoughts, to find the perfect way to say what he wanted to say. It was an idea that had been niggling at the back of his mind with particular force since he found out that his brother was soon to marry. “We both know that the love I seek is not one that would be... well received.”

The Queen frowned and idly picked through the thread she had selected for her newest project. “I want to see you happy, Kurt, and-”

“It will have to be happy without love, and we both know as much.” 

“I hope someday that won’t be true,” Emma returned, though she politely changed the subject just the same. “Have your lessons been going well?”

Kurt let some of the tension drain from his shoulders. “Very well. I’ve learned the first two volumes of the books on herb-lore, and Blaine let me make a poultice this week without looking over my shoulder.” He smiled fondly at the recollection of how difficult it had obviously been for the other man to stay away. Every time Kurt looked up, he’d caught Blaine’s worried gaze from across the room, but never once had the physician checked in until the task was complete. “I believe he very nearly put himself in an early grave trusting me with it, but it came out well.” 

“I’m proud of you for standing by this and working so hard. I am sure that your father is proud too.” The Queen held up the beautiful lace square on which she had carefully embroidered a small field of bright flowers. “Do you think that your brother’s betrothed will like it?”

Kurt inspected the piece carefully and smiled his approval. “If she doesn’t, I say we send her back to wherever she came from.”

“Now, Kurt, she will be a guest here... well, to begin with, she will be,” Emma said reproachfully. “We need to make the Lady and her attendants feel welcome.”

“Yes, I will. Of course I will. If she makes Finn happy, then... then she will be family, after all.” Kurt did his best to ignore the way his gut twisted at the words. He did want his brother to be happy, but there were moments when he mourned deeply and truly the realization that the happiness could only come with someone else. Even if they had not been siblings for all intents and purposes, Finn had been seeking to impress one lady or another since he found out what a lady was. He would bend over backwards and tie himself into knots to get some pretty little thing to smile at him, and now their father had found a proper match. Whatever he felt for the lady, Finn was expected to wed her and begin producing heirs of his own. 

Taking the words at face value, Emma smiled. “I have heard that she is quite beautiful. It was something of a coup that she chose to come here, chose to marry your brother.”

Kurt only barely held his tongue at the bold use of the term “chose” when he knew that neither of the parties involved had done anything of the sort. “I have every faith that they will be very happy together.”

“Of course they will,” the Queen agreed, “it’s a perfect match.”

************

Kurt had to force himself into any sort of joviality when he met Blaine that afternoon for a tutorial on the proper mixing of tinctures for rheumatism. “I am beginning to think that you dislike state dinners as much as I do,” Blaine observed as he watched Kurt try the same simple mixture for the third time. “I have never seen you so unfocused.”

The words drew a sigh from Kurt, who gave up altogether pretending to work on the potion. “It bothers me, the idea that Finn has to marry some random girl from somewhere just because her kingdom would be a good ally with our own.” He rarely spoke so openly to anyone, but Blaine’s own blunt nature demanded the same in return. He never feared for a moment that the physician might report to anyone that he had spoken inappropriately or chide him for being direct.

“That’s the way it’s done,” Blaine answered nonchalantly. He sounded no more pleased than Kurt, but tried to smile for the other man’s benefit. “Perhaps you should be happy that you aren’t the crown prince. You may yet avoid such a fate.”

Kurt’s scowl deepened at the words as his thoughts turned to the unlikelihood that he might ever find a match of his own, let alone one based on love. “Yes. Of course. You’re right. I’m sure she’ll be... be lovely.” The truth was that a very large part of him didn’t want the girl to be lovely. He wanted her to be hideous and awful - enough that his father would throw her out of the castle gates and leave things as they were. 

“Perhaps she’ll even have sisters who need a match,” Blaine added, utterly missing the point as he idly shook a bottle of liquid in one hand and then peered at it skeptically. “You could-”

“There is no need to mock me.” Kurt’s tone was cold as ice, and he sat up straighter before looking back down at the bowl before him. His inclinations were well known enough throughout the household staff, and Kurt knew better than to think that Blaine had been spared the gossip. That the man would even make such a joke stung more than Kurt wanted to admit. “Show me again,” he demanded as calmly as possible as he picked up the first of the ingredients once more. “I will get this right.”

************

For once Kurt sat at the head of the table - or, at least, near to it. His mother and father were flanked by Finn and his betrothed, who was every bit as lovely as everyone had said. Her hair shone like gold, her eyes sparkled, and her smile never faltered. His brother seemed pleased enough with the young woman, ducking his head bashfully whenever she laughed at some jest or comment. Kurt loathed her for that and more, but he tried to focus his attention on the delicious food and easy conversation. Evenings with his father did not always pass so well, but the king was in a fine mood with the arrival of the Lady Quinn and her myriad attendants. Chief among these was a rather lovely girl with dark hair who hovered nearby to attend to the Lady’s every need. Unlike most servants, the brunette seemed to stick her nose in everywhere, monitoring her lady’s food and chiding the other staff whenever their enthusiasm or speed seemed to flag for a moment. Kurt found himself torn between admiration and annoyance as he heard her hissing comments melting into the background noise of the room.

Quickly enough Kurt found his attention wandering. He hated chatting with even the most pleasant of the neighboring royals and wished that Blaine were seated at the table instead of taking his usual post among the other servants. Then he could have spoken openly and comfortably with at least one person. The more time they spent together the more time he wished they could spend together, a frustrating state of affairs when Kurt knew that the best they could hope to achieve was friendship. 

He sought Blaine out in the shadows only to find him sliding up next to another servant. At first Kurt thought he was simply whispering something to a friend, but in a flash of movement so deft that it might have gone unnoticed by anyone else, the man tipped something into Finn’s goblet. 

Kurt’s mouth went dry as he saw the servant turn, oblivious, back to the table to serve the drinks. At first he assured himself that Blaine would certainly do nothing to harm anyone, but he hardly knew the man well enough to say that. He knew precious little about the man apart from his brusque nature, knowledge of herbs, messy hair and kind eyes. No easy explanation for the dose or the subterfuge apart from the obvious - poison - came to mind, and Kurt found himself fighting panic as the drinks were served out. 

“Wait!” he gasped as Finn reached for the ornate glass. The word had come before Kurt found any way to explain himself, a fact that struck him only after the fact as the room fell silent. Kurt’s cheeks flushed with the sudden attention and the clawing desperation at not knowing what to do.

When no quick words followed the first, the king fixed a steady glare on his elder son. “I assume that you have reason for this interruption?” He hated anything to disturb a feast that didn’t add to its quality or create some diversion for the guests. Such a breach of etiquette at the dinner to celebrate his son’s betrothal was unheard of.

“I... the... I think there may be something in my brother’s drink,” Kurt explained lamely. It sounded weak at best, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak Blaine’s name. Even with the apparent evidence of betrayal, balked at doing the man any injury. If it truly was nothing more than some misunderstanding, then he might be harming a friend with no reason. He had precious few friends, and if he were wrong, he would look a fool. If he were right, Kurt had no idea how far he might be willing to go to protect Blaine or if any explanation could make him forgive someone who tried to hurt his family. Desperately he searched for Blaine in the crowd once more and found him nowhere.

“Kurt, this is no time for foolishness.” King William’s tone was even, but his eyes communicated his anger clearly just the same. “This night is for your brother and his lovely bride to be. Let us not-”

“I only want to-”

“Let us not,” the king continued somewhat louder, “do anything that might take away from this special occasion.” 

Kurt’s own temper flared at the dismissal. “I would never-” He saw Emma shake her head in helpless protest and the anger boiled over. “A toast, then,” he proclaimed instead, “to the happy couple.” Kurt rose from his seat and snatched Finn’s goblet up, draining half the wine from it in one go. He felt the slow burn of humiliation as nothing happened and the gaze of the table remained on him. “Forgive me... I...” Even as he fought to apologize, the room began spinning, and Kurt placed his hands flat on the table to steady himself. “I...” The last thing that Kurt was aware of before he spun off into the blackness was the firm pressure of an arm around his waist and warm breath against his ear, a voice whispering, “Damn it, Kurt,” as everything went dark.


	4. Chapter 4

Blaine was lifting Kurt into his arms before most of the people table even reacted to his collapse. The king shouted after him, but the physician paid little heed. His attention was on Kurt alone, though he heard others asking the monarch to remain behind and the sound of the queen being similarly restrained. Dimly Blaine noted that Finn had fallen into step with him at once but didn’t slow his pace for a second. A knight trailed behind asking confused questions that Blaine and ignored entirely.

Finn pressed in closer and whispered urgently, “Is he... will he...” Obviously the prince was too frightened to speak the question at all, and Blaine was in no mood to waste energy comforting him.

“No.” Blaine gave a terse shake of his head. “I need to get him to my chambers, find out what poison it is.” The words made him feel sick. He knew already precisely what was coursing through Kurt’s veins, and he cursed himself. To have put the mixture into Finn’s goblet instead of the king’s and the fact that Kurt had seen at all, that he had been so careless were absolutely unforgivable mistakes. That he had saved himself by not intervening sooner was even worse. He had seen the prince searching for him and known he could stop it all in an instant. Kurt was the first person in longer than he cared to remember who seemed interested in him for something other than his services. Even outside their lessons, the prince more and more often lingered in Blaine’s rooms and chatted about nothing in particular. Blaine looked forward to those moments more eagerly every day.

It dawned on him that Finn was speaking again as he kicked open the door to the compulsively neat workspace he called his own. “What?” he snapped, not even bothering with a title. Blaine found it difficult at best to pretend he cared about the prince’s words when Kurt grew paler with each passing moment. He carefully lay the young man down on his own cot and knelt down next to it. Blaine’s fingers sought Kurt’s neck, and he felt the pulse beating a steady but slackening rhythm there. 

“What can I do?” Finn repeated, more determined than annoyed. The young man’s tone was soft as he added, “Please, he... he’s my brother.”

Knowing he had to make some sort of show, Blaine leaned in closer, pretending to check Kurt’s breath for a sign of what might have caused his condition. “I’m sorry,” he whispered quietly against Kurt’s ear before drawing back. Silently he prayed for forgiveness though he knew he deserved none. “We have to get the antidote. It’s a flower... it only grows in a cave south of here.” He gestured to a nearby table. “Bring me the map.”

Apparently not bothered at being ordered around by a servant of the court given the circumstances, Finn grabbed the map and brought it to Blaine along with a pen and inkwell. “Show me.”

Blaine quickly marked the cave on the map. He had chosen this poison because the antidote was so difficult to procure. “The way will be dangerous. There are beasts in the forest, strange reports of strange creatures in the cave itself, but... the flower is red, bright red. It is small and grows in bunches in the shadows of the rock.” For the first time Blaine forced himself to really look at the younger prince. The confidence in Finn’s eyes did his heart good even if he had trouble sharing the emotion. “You have less than a day. He...” Blaine’s voice faltered, and he looked back at Kurt’s prone form on the cot. “He may have less than that. Speed is of the essence.”

Finn sucked in a breath as if he’d been punched but nodded anyway. “Of course.” He snatched the map back and rose in one smooth motion only to hesitate at the doorway. “Are you... you’re sure you can cure him if you have it? This flower?” His eyes silently begged for reassurance that his brother would live long enough for him to return victorious.

“Yes. I can.” He had to. Whatever it might mean for his own future, Blaine couldn’t let something happen to Kurt because he had been sloppy. “Go. Tell your father that I will do all I can. It is best that we not be disturbed. Whatever strength he has... I... I would rather he conserve it.”

The words and the catch in the physician’s voice seemed to bring the gravity of the situation home on a new level, and Blaine watched the prince swallow hard. “Of course. I will tell them and leave at once.”

Blaine heard Finn’s footsteps retreating but didn’t look up again. He watched Kurt’s face intently instead. His eyes burned with desperate intensity. “He’ll find the flower. I can fix this. I can.” Blaine’s hands shook as he reached out to gently push back the prince’s hair. “If you give me the chance, I promise I can fix this.” 

Blaine quickly rose to bar the door. He couldn’t risk interruption if he was really going to help Kurt survive until his brother returned. Knowing that cold would help to slow the progress of the poison, Blaine opened the prince’s shirt and placed his hands flat on that pale chest. With an effort Blaine resisted the urge to savor the feeling of the warm, soft skin beneath his fingers, reminding himself that the liberty was one he neither deserved nor had permission to take. He murmured a few words under his breath and a chill slowly crept over Kurt’s skin. The sensation was apparently enough to rouse the young man momentarily. Blaine tried not to flinch as Kurt’s gaze fell on him. He had never felt so naked in front of his apprentice before or perhaps before anyone. 

Instead of any recriminations, the prince only managed, “Cold,” in a rough whisper.

“I know, but it... it will help,” Blaine assured. He sounded uncertain even to his own ears and forced a note of confidence into the next words. “Finn has gone to find the antidote. You’ll be fine. I swear it.”

Kurt’s eyes were unfocused, and he shook his head slightly. “What did... what is...”

“I’ll tell you everything, Kurt, but right now, I need you to rest. You have to get stronger.” Blaine swallowed hard at the pallor of the young man’s features. He knew it was his own fault, that he was the cause of Kurt’s pain and would be the cause of his death if Finn didn’t move fast enough. “Sleep. I have no right to ask you to, but... trust me.” As he watched, Kurt sighed and finally let his eyes close once more. 

It took no time at all to gather together the things he would need when Finn returned. No time. Blaine glared at the table, looked back to Kurt, and raised his hand. A few words and a great deal of concentration brought his energy into focus. Using magic was dangerous. Using magic twice in a day when the guards could well break his door down at any moment demanding answers was stupid. But Blaine needed to know what was happening with Finn. He needed to know whether Kurt’s brother progressed unmolested. Blue light flared against Blaine’s palm and swirled into a ball. “Go,” he whispered to the beacon and it flew from his fingers and away to seek the younger prince. 

While the tendrils of his magic chased Finn, Blaine settled into a wooden chair at Kurt’s side to wait. And hope.

************

Every hour felt like an eternity. Blaine never slept for a moment. He watched as Finn struggled through his quest, but mostly he watched Kurt. He forced himself to study the prince’s face. For the first time since the prince came to him and asked for instruction, Blaine forced himself to admit how much he had begun to care. Had he taken the time to examine the emotions sooner, Blaine knew that he would have held himself back. He might never have made the poison that coursed through Kurt’s veins. He might have lost all courage or taste for the revenge he had planned for so long. He might not have made the most foolish mistake of his life. He might never have realized that he was falling rather hopelessly in love.

************

“There was... there was a light... I’ve never seen anything like it!” Finn exclaimed as he watched Blaine mixing herbs and grinding them together while water bubbled nearby. The prince looked exhausted and one cheek was cut open from a near-fall in the cave. “If it wasn’t for the light, I never could have seen these,” he gestured to the pile of half-crushed flowers. “It was like-”

“Gas accumulates in those old caves. Phosphorescent, some of it,” Blaine muttered, only half paying attention to Finn as he worked. He was in the business of making excuses for odd things. He had been doing it his entire life. Seeing Finn’s brow furrow with disappointment, Blaine added, “But lucky.” The young prince reminded him very much of a dog - all energy and affection and emotion. While it grated rather heavily on Blaine’s nerves, he found that it also added another layer of guilt at the idea that he had nearly hurt Finn when he had no real quarrel with the young man.

“Very. It will work?” Finn asked for the hundredth time. Even he was sharp enough to spot the annoyance on Blaine’s face at the repeated questioning and held his hands up. “Sorry. Of course you heal him. Court physician. I know.” He glanced back over his shoulder at Kurt, who looked gray and had sweat beaded on his brow despite Blaine’s best attempts to keep him cool and comfortable. Finn’s arrival put magic off the table and out of reach, leaving only cool cloths and essential oils to do the same job.

Blaine managed to steady his hands to pour the water in the mix, watching as the herbs steeped in the water until it took on a dull reddish color before pouring the whole of it over cheesecloth. The potion dripped through into the glass beneath while the herbs collected in the cloth. Blaine tossed the fabric aside and hurried to Kurt’s bedside again. “Can you help him sit up?”

Finn pitched in at once and eased Kurt up, one hand on his brother’s back and the other braced at the nape of his neck. “How’s he going to drink it?”

“Hopefully he’ll wake enough to take it himself,” Blaine answered. He didn’t want to resort to trying to force the liquid down Kurt’s throat. Then they would risk choking him instead of saving him. Thankfully as the liquid began to pour into Kurt’s mouth, he saw the muscles of his throat working weakly to keep up with the flow. “There...” He felt almost giddy with relief. The antidote would work almost as quickly as the poison had. “Give him a moment.” Both men held their breath as they waited for any sign of a change in Kurt. At first Blaine felt his heart sinking. They were too late, too much damage had been done. No punishment that the king or anyone else might inflict on him could ever match that moment of stunned realization.

All at once, Kurt drew in a shuddering breath, and his eyes flew wide as if surfacing from beneath the waves. He sputtered and coughed up some of the rust-colored potion and Finn sat him up further, clapping him a bit too hard on the back. “It worked! You’re okay!” Finn enfolded his brother in a fervent hug, unaware of the way Kurt stared at Blaine over his shoulder. Cold fury burned in those eyes. Things had most definitely changed.


	5. Chapter 5

“I have Sir David standing watch,” Finn informed Kurt as he settled in on the edge of the bed to speak with his older brother. It was the first chance they’d had to talk since Kurt first woke. The initial crush of visitors had ebbed, and Finn had been obliged to get his own cuts and bruises tended before he offered any further help. “No one’s going to get near you.” In the meantime, he had seen to proper security arrangements, putting one of his most trusted knights on the duty after the man gamely volunteered.

“Except for family, of course... and the court physician,” Kurt added in an strange tone. His thoughts had strayed only rarely from Blaine since his eyes first opened, though the two of them had said not a word to one another.

Any oddity was lost on Finn, who beamed at the observation. “Right! He was really something. I always thought the guy was sort of creepy to be honest. The hood and, well, him being sort of mean and everything, but he doesn’t wear the hood much anymore, and he did a good job.” Nodding to himself, the prince added, “He saved you.”

Kurt bristled at the suggestion. “You saved me. He mixed a few things together, but you risked your life. I don’t really know how to thank you for it.” He felt a swell of emotion that he’d mostly suppressed bubbling to the surface. It was difficult not to be a bit in love with Finn, and the daring rescue he’d executed had stirred those feelings with new force.

“You’re my brother! What else would I do?” The taller man reached out to give Kurt’s arm a warm squeeze before standing from his perch. “Do you need anything? Mom won’t stop asking me. She’s worried about you, and with all the planning with the lady Quinn here and keeping everyone entertained... it’s driving her crazy not being here with you.”

“No... honestly, nothing. I wish she wouldn’t worry. I’ll be perfectly alright.” King William had even put in an appearance to see that his son was well. What surprised Kurt most about the visit was the fact that the king had even come close to admitting he was wrong not to listen to his son about the poison. When asked about what he had seen to prompt the warning, Kurt protested that his memory was foggy about the entire night and begged for rest before he pushed to recall things more clearly. He still had no idea what he wanted to do, and it didn’t help that the court physician remained one of the few people at court who had not set foot in his room since affirming that he was no longer at death’s door. “Actually, would you... if you could fetch the physician? I would like to thank him in person.”

Finn nodded at once, beaming his approval of the idea. “I’ll send him up. I’m sure he’ll be happy you’re looking so much better.” The taller man’s smile faltered slightly. “He was really worried.”

The smile that Kurt offered was wavering at best, but Finn didn’t notice. Kurt sighed as his brother left, and he found himself contemplating what he would say to Blaine only to realize it was more about what Blaine might say to him. Could he say anything that would make it all make sense? Make it all okay? 

The door opening broke into Kurt’s thoughts, and Blaine stepped in. He looked absolutely ragged, his curls in utter disarray and deep circles beneath his eyes. Looking almost as ill as Kurt himself, the man stepped closed the door to give them some small sense of privacy. He took only a few steps into the room. “I had expected guards to have come by now.” 

The words hung awkwardly in the air for several moments before the prince could find a proper response. “No.” Kurt fidgeted momentarily with the heavily embroidered comforter draped across his lap. “I wanted to know why. I still want to know why. I told everyone that I’ve been having trouble recalling anything from that night.” When Blaine still seemed stuck, frozen by his own indecision, Kurt gestured for him to sit down. “I want to hear everything from you. You promised me an explanation, and I need it.” As far gone as he’d been, Blaine’s rough voice and desperate pleas had stuck with him through the heavy sleep and into his waking world.Those as much as anything had held his tongue fast. 

Blaine shuddered as if the very idea made him ill but sat down on the edge of the bed just the same. He searched Kurt’s face and found a guarded sort of curiosity there. It hurt to feel the distance between them, hurt even moreso when he knew he was the cause. “I never wanted to hurt Prince Finn,” he finally offered. Blaine averted his eyes and added more quietly, “I had intended to kill the king.”

The words were enough to startle Kurt into gasping. It wasn’t that he thought of his father as so likable a man that no one could ever want him dead. It was that he had never thought of Blaine as a man who would willfully try to kill someone. Hearing the words meant that any justifications he’d tried to make up in his own mind were false. It had been no accident, save for an error of intended victims. 

“Do you... want to hear the rest, or shall I... shall I turn myself in? It seems that your brother was kind enough to leave a guard at your door,” Blaine finished in a tone so soft it was almost a whisper.

Kurt swallowed. He should, of course, insist upon it. Blaine deserved to be punished for so abhorrent an act. Anyone would, and yet the thought of seeing Blaine dragged into the courtyard and hung for the crime made him feel sick all over again. “No,” Kurt answered before he could stop himself. “No, please... continue. If I recall, you promised to tell me everything.”

“He killed my father and my brother. Not that anyone would call it that,” Blaine allowed, visibly shaken as he looked at the floor and slowly, haltingly began to relate a story he’d never told anyone before. “They were sentenced. All within the law. They used magic. It had been outlawed since your father’s father sat on the throne, and they did it anyway, and they were... they were hung. In the square. In front of everyone. In front of me.” After a moment more to swallow the tears that rose at the memory, Blaine finally spoke again, “There was no evidence against me, and so I was allowed to stay at court. I professed my loyalty to the crown and to Albion and I took my father’s position. I was young, but I had skill enough.”

Kurt remembered dimly when Blaine had taken over the position, recalled talk of the court physician being new, but such things rarely affected him. It was simply another staff change. He had a fever sometime the next spring and had been surprised at first by the new face tending him, but Blaine was just a servant in the household and one who mostly hid from view. He gave it no more thought after that. He had never known that the man who tended him before that was Blaine’s father, and he had certainly never realized he had taken over because his father had been killed, never known that the man who saw to his ills was only a few summers older than he was himself. “I never knew.”

“No.” Blaine’s tone was bitter and laced with anger borne at the injustice of the act and its invisibility to anyone who could have stopped it. “He was just another criminal. If he hadn’t worked here, I doubt that the king would even have known his name. I’m sure he doesn’t remember it now. I’m sure that I would have been hanging alongside them, but my father was careful. He tried to claim the crime was his alone, but a guard had seen my brother using spellwork to heal someone. In the end, that was the only thing they could prove against him. Can you imagine that? He was hanged for healing someone.” Blaine’s voice cracked, and he finally looked up at Kurt. “I owe them something. I owe them their revenge.”

The exchange had been intense already, and Kurt had to steel himself before he found his voice. It struck him that he had never before seen Blaine so naked before him. For once there were no masks or pretense. Walls, yes, as Blaine attempted to hold himself together, but Kurt knew that they were closer in that moment than they’d ever been before in some perverse way. “They would want you to hang, then? After your father fought so hard to spare you, he would want you dead?”

Blaine looked up, his eyes shining with unshed tears, and glared. His jaw tightened, and he barely grated out, “How dare you-”

“No, how dare you? Your family died protecting you, and you would spit in the face of that sacrifice for something as shallow as revenge. It’s disgusting,” Kurt answered. His own eyes blazed with anger. Blaine might not want to hear the truth but he needed to hear it before things got more out of hand. “You hate my father for killing within the law, but you would murder him in cold blood? You almost killed my brother, who did you no harm. You almost killed me.”

That finally had an impact, and Blaine winced and looked away. His hands twisted on his lap, silently telling the story of his real feelings as the rest of his body remained rigid. “I would never-”

“But you did. You may never have meant to, but you did, Blaine, and that’s something... that you’ll have to live with. It’s something you need to think about. Right now, I have a decision to make. Before I make it, I need to know... can you promise me that this is over? Can you promise me that it will never happen again?” Kurt met Blaine’s gaze without wavering. He looked pale and sickly, but there was a new resolve in his eyes. He knew that he had been foolish and naive. He had created a relationship in his mind with someone he didn’t even know, and the more he learned, the more uncertain Kurt felt about whether they had ever even truly been friends. Friends knew one another far better than he had never known Blaine.

The physician hesitated and then nodded. His head fell forward onto his chest once more. “I promise you. I won’t ask for your forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. But I do ask... I ask that you accept that I’m truly sorry.” 

Silence hung awkwardly between them for several minutes before Kurt finally decided, “I won’t tell anyone. For now. I don’t know what to do, and I... I won’t make any decisions until I’m sure. Right now I think I need rest.” He waited until Blaine rose from the bed and moved to exit the room before calling out, “I don’t think I’ll need anymore lessons.” He managed to hold himself together until the door closed and then rolled over, burying his face in the pillow and sobbing.

************

Blaine kept his distance. He stayed back, he did his work, and that was all. The hooded cloaks he had foregone at Kurt’s request returned as Blaine tried to blend into the background. He hadn’t realized how much he’d come to rely on seeing Kurt every day until the prince was gone entirely from his routine. He felt the ache all the more keenly because he still saw Kurt almost every day. Instead of talking with the prince, he watched him. He watched Kurt grow strong again under the constant watch of either his brother or one of the knights, and though there was a constant haunted look on his face during quieter moments, Kurt seemed happy. 

Blaine saw him most often with Finn as the younger prince fought to bring his brother out of his shell once more. It hurt seeing Kurt constantly at someone else’s side, especially when he looked so content. It hurt more when he realized the way the prince looked at Finn when he thought no one else saw. There was more than friendship there and more than brotherly affection. Kurt was in love, and Blaine could feel his heart breaking.


	6. Chapter 6

“Can I tell you something?” Finn blurted out rather unceremoniously one evening as he and Kurt sat together out on the grounds. They’d been chatting rather pleasantly about this and that and the other when Finn’s expression shifted from happy to pensive.

Kurt smiled gently and gave his brother’s knee a companionable squeeze while ignoring a flutter of nerves at his attempt to keep the contact casual. “Of course. Anything.”

The look of relief on Finn’s face was comical. His reticence fell away in a sudden rush of words, “When I was hurt getting those flowers, one of the Lady Quinn’s handmaidens was the one who patched me up since Blaine was so busy tending to you.” Color rose in Finn’s cheeks, and he ducked his head as he confessed, “She... she was really nice. And really pretty.”

Not liking where the line of confession was headed, Kurt’s brow furrowed, “Finn, you need to be careful-”

“We didn’t do anything!” he added hurriedly, hands raised in protest. “She isn’t like that. It wasn’t like that. At all. I mean it, Kurt. I just... like her. A lot.” Finn looked down at his feet and shuffled them against the green grass before muttering, “More than Quinn.”

“You’re supposed to be marrying her, Finn. Soon. A matter of weeks.” Kurt had overheard the plans and discussions his mother had regularly with various servants as they hurried to plan everything perfectly. He bit his tongue to keep from pointing out that princes did not always have the luxury of waiting for true love. “Perhaps you’re just nervous about the idea of matrimony.” For reasons he couldn’t fathom, Kurt found himself even more annoyed at the thought of a servant trying to seduce his brother than by the thought of Finn marrying the lovely Lady Quinn. 

“No, it isn’t that. I kind of like the idea, actually. I want a family.” Finn smiled at the thought and shared the warmth of the expression with Kurt readily. “That part’s fine, but I can’t help wondering if I’m marrying the right person for the right reasons. Shouldn’t marriage be about more than just allying kingdoms?”

The words hit Kurt hard, and he couldn’t help nodding. “It should, you’re right, but I... want you to be careful. You don’t know what this girl really wants.” Quinn’s servant probably wanted nothing more than a royal bastard to hold over his brother’s head. 

Finn looked hurt at the suggestion. “She wants me,” he answered, all glowering brows and dark eyes. “She likes me too.”

“And the fact that you’re the crown prince? That doesn’t matter at all?” Kurt regretted the words the moment they left his lips thanks to the anger that clouded Finn’s eyes almost at once. “I only want you to-”

“Be careful. Right. Because I’m so terrible at taking care of myself?” Finn rose and started to walk away before wheeling on Kurt. “I know everybody thinks I’m stupid, but I thought you were different. You know what it’s like when everybody treats you like there’s something wrong with you. You know, Kurt. You’re supposed to be the one who understands.”

Kurt watched, mouth hanging open, as Finn stalked away. He hated most that his brother was entirely and completely right.

************

It was extreme. Kurt knew that. He also knew that he needed to do something to make things right. The more he thought about their conversation, the more Kurt realized the sort of wedge the girl was driving between him and his brother. If Finn continued on with this girl, things would get worse. He knew it. He could feel it. She was a bad influence, was simply the wrong person for Finn. That’s all there was to it. Kurt knew that Finn might be caught up in her for awhile, but if he could be drawn away long enough to notice the Lady Quinn, he felt sure that everything would work out. The kingdom deserved a happy prince with a proper wife. With that thought in mind, Kurt shifted the jars and vials on the shelves and tried to remember what ingredients might best combine to put someone under the weather.

“What are you doing?” 

The prince wheeled to see Blaine standing just inside the room. The man looked tired and uncertain. “I need...” There was little point in lying. Kurt reminded himself firmly that Blaine was a servant of the court. “I need your help,” he finished imperiously.

The words dispelled none of the tentative worry on Blaine’s face, but he nodded slowly, seeming to understand where things stood between them whether he liked it or not. “Of course, my Lord. How can I help you?”

It hurt more than Kurt had expected to hear the cool tone from Blaine, but he forged ahead, “I need to... to make someone... ill,” Kurt explained haltingly. Faced with explaining even part of the situation, he felt a growing sense of unease. The Queen had always told him that if ever he was on the verge of doing something and he wouldn’t tell it even to those closest to him, it was something he shouldn’t do to begin with. This felt a good deal more serious than the childish infractions she’d referred to. Stealing from the palace kitchens between meals didn’t compare to this. Unthinkingly Kurt bit at his lip while he awaited a response.

Shock registered before Blaine could bring the mask of indifference back over his features. He gave a slight shake of his head. “No. Kurt-” he caught himself and amended, “my Lord, whoever has wronged you and whatever they have done-”

“It is not me they have wronged. One of the Lady Quinn’s servants seems not to know her place.” The words were laced with bitterness, and Kurt crossed his arms over his chest, chin tipped up and gaze defiant. Having an opponent made the fight easier. The guilt slipped away as Kurt focused entirely on the idea of being right instead. “Something needs to be done. If she’s indisposed, perhaps my brother can direct his affections in a healthier direction.”

“To you?”

The words seemed to surprise them both, as though Blaine had momentarily lost control of his own lips. Kurt recovered first and color blazed high on his cheeks. “How dare you! Finn is... is my brother and-”

Rising to the challenge instead of backing down as propriety demanded, Blaine spat back, “Not by birth. Your interest is-”

“Is entirely in his well being. I asked for your professional assistance, not for your opinion.” The anger was gone as quickly as it came and covered with a chilly indifference that made the atmosphere in the room even heavier. “Will you help me?”

“I can’t.” The words were quiet, strained as though it was difficult for Blaine to speak at all. “I won’t. Forgive me, my Lord, but I won’t.”

“For you of all people to-”

Blaine shook his head and sighed. “I of all people know the mark that such things can leave on you. Whether the girl is harmed in the end or not, you will be. I will not be party to it.” He took a shuffling step forward, one hand outstretched. “The Prince will find his way on his own. No one needs to be hurt.”

There was a moment of silence, and finally Kurt looked away. “I told you, I didn’t ask for your opinion.” He brushed past the court physician without another word and disappeared down the corridor.

************

“But what’s wrong?” It was the third time in as many minutes that Prince Finn had asked the question, and Blaine had no better answer than the first one he had given. The prince had been hovering like a nervous mother at the girl’s bedside since she was first found.

“I do not know, my Lord. Not yet.” He heard an exasperated sigh, but it came from the lovely young woman holding Finn’s arm, not from the worried prince.

The Lady Quinn applied gentle pressure to tug her betrothed away. “Do you not trust your own physician? Surely he is capable. Is he not the physician to the king? To your brother? To you yourself?” 

Finn hesitated but finally allowed, “Yes. Yes, of course he’s capable, but-”

“Then he is certainly capable of seeing to my servant. She will be fine.” There was an edge of acid beneath the honey-sweet tones of her voice. “I am certain it is only the change in climate. She is unused to such a chill and has taken ill. Come, your father awaits us at lunch.” The woman paused only long enough to ask Blaine, “Have you further need of us?”

“No, my Lady,” Blaine answered at once. “Thank you, but I can see to her without assistance. You have been most kind.” He thought nothing of the sort. Though it was the Lady Quinn who had called him to her servant’s beside, she had seemed more annoyed at the inconvenience than worried for the girl’s health. Once they were gone, Blaine let his shoulders sag as he looked at the girl on the bed. Rachel was pale and drawn, but her breath was steady. She would live, though he had no idea how long she might sleep before finally waking. She might well find her way back to the land of the living before Blaine even determined what poison had struck her down. He took the young woman’s wrist to reassure himself that her pulse remained strong and steady as he whispered, “What have you done?”

************

Kurt spent the entire day thrumming with a sort of nervous excitement. News had spread quickly that one of the visiting Lady’s servants had fallen mysteriously ill while going about her morning duties. Once he confirmed - through gentle, thoughtful questioning of some other servants about the girl’s health - that it was indeed Rachel, Kurt had felt his breath catch. It strained credulity to think that it was coincidence alone that had the girl abed after his conversation with Blaine the day before. Perhaps it was an olive branch of sorts. Sir David assured him that the physician said the girl would live, though she was very ill and did little more than sleep for the time being.

As the day wore on, Kurt found no reasons to see the physican and wouldn’t allow himself to create any. As much as he wanted to see Blaine and confirm his suspicions were true, he found himself fearing the man’s anger if he happened to be wrong. Dinner brought with it the first hint of promise that he might see Blaine. Kurt scanned the faces at the back of the crowd and finally spotted him. Instead of the smile he had envisioned them sharing, the prince found Blaine’s gaze on him already. It looked as heavy and hopeless as it had before he swept out of the room. 

All of the light seemed to drain from the space, and Kurt sagged back in his seat, idly toying with the food onto his plate until he became aware that voices around him were swirling with angry whispers. He refocused himself to realize that Quinn was hissing accusations, her gaze fixed on the King and then flashing to him. Kurt felt a thrill of alarm and straightened in his seat. “What did you say?” he demanded in a harsh whisper of his own.

“I said, Highness,” the woman explained in a mocking tone, “that you are the person with the most to gain from harming my servant. You have made your distaste for me very clear, and if your brother does not marry, then you benefit most. You dare not harm me, and yet poor Rachel...” False tears glittered in the woman’s beautiful eyes only to be replaced by bitter anger, “Is that not your only hope for ever securing the throne for yourself?”

The words were so bold that Kurt was struck speechless for a moment. No one had ever looked at him as any threat to his brother’s claim. No man would ever follow him as a leader, and Kurt knew that better than anyone. “You have no right-”

The King held up an imperious hand, his expression dark. “No, she does not. Not in this venue,” Will added a bit more magnanimously. He quietly allowed, “My Lady, if you have misgivings about my family, you would do well to express them privately to me and nowhere else. The subject is ended for now.” 

His tone brooked no argument whatsoever, and Kurt watched the rage that flared in Quinn’s eyes. Hesitantly he looked to Finn, who seemed equally stunned by the whole exchange. When Kurt tried to catch the other prince’s eyes, Finn looked pointedly away, shrinking from the woman at his side and away from his brother at the same time. Of their own volition, Kurt’s eyes sought again in the crowd the one person he hoped might have heard enough to understand the pain of the moment, but Blaine still wore the dull mask of indifference. Kurt dropped his gaze, crestfallen, and remained silent until he escaped at last to his own room.


End file.
